


No Exit (SEASON TWO, EPISODE SIX)

by ackles_ass_equation



Series: Superghetto [29]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Awesome Ellen, Canon Related, Episode: s02e06 No Exit, Harvelle's Roadhouse, Jo Harvelle & Dean Winchester Friendship, Jo is bait, Protective Ellen, Screenplay/Script Format
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 13:48:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6987547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ackles_ass_equation/pseuds/ackles_ass_equation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam n' Dean rewind tha slayingz of blonde dem hoes n' find dat tha pimp of tha straight-up original gangsta known serial killa up in US history is responsible. Jo disobeys Ellenz wishes n' bigs up dem along, n' is captured by tha pimp.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. NOW

EXT. PHILADELPHIA - NIGHT

Shotz of tha hood at night, closin up in on a crib building. Da lights up in a upper window is flickering. We zoom into:

INT fo' realz. APARTMENT - NIGHT

A lil' blonde biatch, KATIE BURNS, is poppin' off on tha beeper while pacin under tha flickerin lights, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch be annoyed.

 **KATIE  
** I checked tha fuses. They're fine. It aint nuthin but tha wiring. Look, you promised tha place would be locked n loaded when I moved in. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. No. Yo ass come up now! Please. Nuff props, biatch.

She hangs up. Biatch grimaces at suttin' on tha table, reaches up a gangbangin' finger n' dabs dat shit. It aint nuthin but a thick black goo.

 **KATIE  
** Gross.

Mo' goo drips on her shoulder n' shit. Biatch looks up, gettin trippin like a muthafucka. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch goes over ta tha light switch by tha wall, outta which tha goo is oozin thickly.

 **KATIE  
** What tha hell?

She looks deeper tha fuck into tha light switch; a cold-ass lil creepy, bloodshot eyes appears. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch screams.


	2. ACT ONE

EXT yo. HARVELLE'S ROADHOUSE - DAY

SAM n' DEAN is gettin outta tha IMPALA, parked up in front of tha ROADHOUSE.

 **DEAN  
** Los Angeles, California.

 **SAM  
** Whatz up in L.A.?

 **DEAN  
** Young girlz been kidnapped by a evil cult.

 **SAM  
** Yeah, biatch? Girl gots a name?

 **DEAN  
** Katie Holmes.

 **SAM**  
(laughs)  
Thatz funky fo' realz. And fo' you, so biiiatchy.

From inside tha roadhouse comes tha sound of breakin glass n' shoutin voices. DEAN turns.

 **DEAN  
** Of course, on tha other hand- catfight.

They go into:

INT. ROADHOUSE - DAY

On tha upper levels, ELLEN n' JO is shouting. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM n' DEAN enta cautiously.

 **ELLEN  
** I be yo' mother, I don't gotta be reasonable!

 **JO  
** Yo ass can't keep me here!

 **ELLEN  
** Oh, don't you bet on that, dopeie.

 **JO  
** What is you goin ta do, is you goin ta chain me up in tha basement?

 **ELLEN  
** Yo ass know what, you've had worse scams than dat recently. Yo, you don't wanna stay, don't stay. Go back ta school.

 **JO  
** I didn't belong there biaaatch! I was a gangbangin' freak wit a knife collection.

 **ELLEN**  
Yeah, n' gettin yo ass capped on some dusty back road, thatz where you belong?!  
(she turns n' sees tha thugs)  
Guys, shitty time.

 **SAM  
** Yes, ma'am.

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, we rarely drank before ten anyway.

  1. **  
** Wait. I wanna know what tha fuck they be thinkin bout this.



A mom, a thugged-out dad, n' two lil playas under three, all bustin bright yellow t-shirts dat read "Nebraska is fo' Lovers" enter n' shit.

 **ELLEN  
** I couldn't give a fuckin shiznit what tha fuck they think!

 **DAD  
** Is you muthafuckas open?

 **JO  
** No!

 **ELLEN  
** Yes!

 **DAD  
** We bout ta just... hit up tha Arbyz down tha road.

They muthafuckin bounce. Da beeper rings. JO glares at it, then at ELLEN, whoz ass stalks over ta answer dat shit.

 **ELLEN  
** Harvelle's. Yeah, Preacher n' shit.

 **JO**  
Three weeks ago a lil' hoes disappears from a Philadelphia crib.   
(she shoves a gangbangin' file folda at DEAN)  
Take it, it won't bite.

 **DEAN  
** Fuck dat shiznit yo, but yo' momma might.

She pinches her lips, still holdin up tha folda n' shiznit yo. Dude takes it reluctantly.

 **JO  
** And dis hoe wasn't tha first. Over tha past eighty muthafuckin years six dem hoes have vanished. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! All from tha same building, all lil' blondes. Only happens every last muthafuckin decade or two so cops never eyebizzle tha pattern, so check it before ya wreck it. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So we either dealin wit one straight-up oldschool serial killer, or-

 **DEAN  
** Dum diddy-dum, here I come biaaatch! Who tha fuck put dis together, biatch? Ash?

 **JO  
** I done did it mah dirty ass.

 **DEAN**  
(impressed)  
Hmm.

 **SAM  
** I gotta admit. Our thugged-out asses hit tha road fo' a shitload less.

 **ELLEN  
** Good. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I be fly as a gangbangin' falcon, soarin all up in tha sky dawwwwg! Yo ass like tha case so much, you take dat shit.

 **JO  
** Mom!

 **ELLEN  
** Joanna Beth, dis crew has lost enough cause I gots dem finger-lickin' chickens wit tha siz-auce fo' realz. And I won't lose you like a muthafucka. I just won't.

EXT. PHILADELPHIA - DAY

Da IMPALA roars tha fuck into town. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. They park up in front of tha crib buildin from tha TEASER. Close blasted of a thugged-out doorknob; it opens ta reveal SAM, followed by DEAN. They enter:

INT fo' realz. APARTMENT BUILDING - DAY

 **SAM  
** I feel kind of bad, snakin Joz case.

 **DEAN**  
Yeah, maybe she put together a phat file. But could you peep her up here hustlin one of these thangs, biatch? I don't be thinkin so.   
(Both pull up EMF readers)  
Yo ass gettin anything?

 **SAM  
** Fuck dat shit, not yet.

As SAM runs his bangin reader over tha light switch, it purrs. Dude leans over.

 **SAM  
** Whatz that?

 **DEAN  
** What?

 **SAM**  
(touchin tha goo)  
Holy crap.

 **DEAN**  
(also touchin tha goo)  
Thatz ectoplasm. Well, Sam, I be thinkin I know what tha fuck our phat asses dealin wit here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. It aint nuthin but tha Stay-Puff Marshmallow Man.

 **SAM**  
(rollin his wild lil' fuckin eyes)  
Dean, I've only peeped dis stuff, like, twice. I mean, ta make dis shiznit you gotta be one majorly pissed off spirit, n' I aint talkin bout no muthafuckin Jack Daniels neither. Shiiit, dis aint no joke.

 **DEAN  
** All right, letz find dis badass before da perved-out muthafucka snags any mo' hoes.

They exit tha crib n' strutt down tha hallway; hearin voices, they hide round a cold-ass lil corner n' shit. DEAN frowns as he realizes tha biatchz voice belongs ta JO.

 **JO  
** It aint nuthin but so convenient.

 **LANDLORD  
** Yeah, itz a pimped out building, fixed it up real sick fo' realz. All tha cribs come furnished, like a muthafucka.

 **JO  
** It be so spacious. Yo ass know, mah playa holla'd at mah crazy ass I straight-up gotta come check it out, n' I gotta admit, dat biiiiatch was right. Yo ass did a straight-up phat thang wit dis place.

 **DEAN**  
(steppin out)  
What tha hell is you bustin here?

 **JO**  
There yo ass is, honey.   
(grabbin DEAN round tha waist)  
This is mah pimp Dean n' his dawg Sam.

 **LANDLORD  
** Dope ta meetcha. Quite a gal you've gots here.

 **DEAN**  
(smackin her ass)   
Oh yeah, she a pistol.

 **JO  
** So, did you already hit up dat crib, biatch? Da one fo' rent.

 **DEAN  
** Yeah. Yes yes y'all. Loved dat shit. Heh. Great flow.

 **LANDLORD  
** How'd you git in?

 **DEAN  
** Dat shiznit was open.

 **JO  
** Now, Ed, um, when did tha last tenant move out?

 **LANDLORD  
** Oh, on some month ago. Cut n' run, like a muthafucka. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Stick me fo' tha rent.

 **JO  
** Well yo. Her loss, our gain! 'Cause if Dean-o loves it, itz phat enough fo' mah dirty ass.

 **DEAN**  
Oh, dopeie.  
(he smacks her again)

 **JO**  
(pullin up a wad of chedda)  
We bout ta take dat shit.

INT fo' realz. APARTMENT - DAY

 **JO  
** I be bout ta flip you fo' tha sofa.

 **DEAN  
** Do yo' mutha even know you here?

 **JO  
** Told her I was goin ta Vegas.

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass be thinkin she gonna loot that?

 **JO  
** I aint a idiot. I gots Ash ta lay a cold-ass lil credit card trail all tha way ta tha casinos.

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass know, you shouldn't lie ta yo' momma. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Shouldn't be here either n' shit.

 **JO  
** Well, I am. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So untwist yo' boxers n' deal wit dat shit.

 **SAM  
** Where'd you git all dat scrilla from, anyways?

 **JO  
** Working, all up in tha Roadhouse.

 **DEAN  
** Huntas don't tip dat well.

 **JO  
** Well, they aren't dat phat at poker, either n' shit.

DEAN'S cell beeper rings yo. Dude lyrics dat shit.

 **DEAN  
** Yeah.

 **ELLEN'S VOICE  
** Is dat biiiiatch wit yo slick ass?

 **DEAN  
** Oh, hi Ellen. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.

 **ELLEN  
** Bitch left a note she up in Vegas. I don't believe it fo' a second. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka!

 **DEAN**  
(holdin tha beeper back, ta JO)  
I be spittin some lyrics ta her n' shit.   
(they gotz a gangbangin' furious, muttered argument)

 **ELLEN'S VOICE  
** Dean?

 **DEAN  
** I aint peeped her n' shit.

 **ELLEN'S VOICE  
** Yo ass shizzle bout that?

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, I be sure.

 **ELLEN  
** Well,. Biiiatch please.If her big-ass booty shows up, you gonna drag her booty right back here, won't yo slick ass?

 **DEAN  
** Absolutely.

 **ELLEN  
** Okay. Thanks, honey.

DEAN hangs up tha phone; JO grins cheerfully.

LATER

DEAN is pacing, JO chillin all up in tha table wit blueprints spread out. Dat hoe flippin a lil' small-ass knife around. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka!

 **JO  
** This place was built up in 1924. Dat shiznit was originally a warehouse, converted tha fuck into cribs all dem months ago.

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, biatch? What was here before 1924.

 **JO  
** Nothing. Empty field. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka!

 **SAM  
** So, most likely scenario, one of mah thugs took a dirt nap bloody up in tha building, n' now his thugged-out lil' punk-ass back n' raisin hell.

 **JO**  
I already checked. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! In tha past eighty two years, zero violent dirtnaps. Unless you count a janitor whoz ass slipped on a wet floor. Shiiit, dis aint no joke.   
(to DEAN)  
Would you sit tha fuck down, please?

 **DEAN**  
(sitting)  
So, have you checked five-o reports, county dirtnap records...

 **JO  
** Obituaries, mortuary reports n' seven other sources. I know what tha fuck I be bustin.

 **DEAN  
** I be thinkin tha juryz still up on dat one. Could you put tha knife down?

She do.

 **SAM  
** Okay dawwwwg! So, uh, itz suttin' else, then. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Maybe some kind of cursed object dat brought a spirit wit dat shit.

 **JO  
** Well, we've gots ta scan tha whole building. Everywhere we can git to, right?

 **DEAN  
** Right. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So. Yo ass n' me, we'll take tha top two floors.

 **JO  
** We'd move fasta if we split up.

 **DEAN  
** Oh, dis aint negotiable.

INT fo' realz. APARTMENT BUILDING - LATER

JO n' DEAN is struttin down a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dim hallway wit EMF readers.

 **JO  
** So. Yo ass gonna loot me dinner?

 **DEAN  
** What is you poppin' off about?

 **JO  
** It aint nuthin but just if you gonna ride me dis close itz only decent you loot me dinner n' shit.

 **DEAN  
** Oh, thatz hilarious. Yo ass know, itz shitty enough I lied ta yo' mom yo, but if you be thinkin I be lettin you outta mah sight... I don't give a fuck if you've noticed yo, but you kind of tha spiritz type.

 **JO  
** Exactly.

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass wanna be bait?

 **JO  
** Quickest way ta draw it up n' you know dat shit.

 **DEAN  
** Oh.

 **JO  
** What?

 **DEAN  
** I be soopa-doopa regrettin all dis bullshit.

 **JO  
** Yo ass know, I've had it up ta here wit yo' crap.

 **DEAN  
** Excuse me son?

 **JO  
** Yo crazy-ass chauvinist crap. Yo ass be thinkin dem hoes can't do tha thang.

 **DEAN  
** Sweetheart, dis ain't gender studies. Put ya muthafuckin choppers up if ya feel dis! Booty can do tha thang fine fo' realz. Amateurs can't. Yo ass have no experience. What you do have be a funky-ass bunch of half-baked horny-ass dat some barflies put up in yo' head. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka!

 **JO  
** Now you sound like mah mutha n' shit.

 **DEAN  
** Oh, n' thatz a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dirty-ass shitty-ass thang, biatch? Because let me rap , biatch...

 **JO  
** What?

 **DEAN  
** Forget dat shit.

 **JO  
** Fuck dat shit, you started all dis bullshit.

 **DEAN  
** Jo, you've gots options. No one up in they right mind chizzlez dis game. My fuckin daddy started mah crazy ass up in dis when I was so young... I wish I could do suttin' else.

 **JO  
** Yo ass ludd tha thang.

 **DEAN  
** Yeah yo, but I be a lil twisted. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! This type'a shiznit happens all tha time.

 **JO  
** Yo ass don't be thinkin I be a lil twisted too?

 **DEAN  
** Jo, you've gots a mutha dat worries bout you, biatch. Dum diddy-dum, here I come biaaatch! Who tha fuck wants suttin' mo' fo' you, biatch. Those is phat thangs. Yo ass don't throw thangs like dat away. Might be hard ta find later n' shit.

They approach a gratin near tha floor. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. As JO standz up in front of it, a thugged-out dark hand slides all up in tha holez towardz her legs. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch turns around, gasping.

 **DEAN  
** What?

 **JO  
** I aint sure.

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass smell that?

 **JO**  
(sniffing)  
What tha fuck iz that, a gas leak?

 **DEAN  
** No. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Somethang else. I know dat shit. I just can't put mah finger on dat shit.

JO crouches by tha grating; her EMF reader purrs.

 **DEAN  
** Mazel Tov. Yo ass just found yo' first spirit, n' I aint talkin bout no muthafuckin Jack Daniels neither. Shiiit, dis aint no joke.

 **JO  
** It aint nuthin but inside tha vent.

DEAN crouches beside her, shinin his wild lil' flashlight yo. Dude handz it ta her muthafuckin ass.

 **DEAN  
** Here.

Dude pulls up a screwdriver n' unscrews tha grating, pullin it off tha wall.

 **DEAN  
** Therez suttin' up in there, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho yo. Here.

Dude reaches his thugged-out arm inside, feelin around. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Dude pulls his hand out, holdin a cold-ass lil clump of blond hair. Shiiit, dis aint no joke.

 **DEAN  
** Somebodyz keepin souvenirs.

INT ANOTHER APARTMENT - NIGHT

Another lil' blonde biatch, TERESA ELLIS, entas her crib, carryin mail. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch drops her bag on tha counta n' starts openin a letter, mutterin ta her muthafuckin ass. Goo drips from tha ceilin onto tha paper, which dat dunkadelic hoe tosses up in tha garbage. Da lights flicker; lookin up, her big-ass booty sees a big-ass crack step tha fuck up in tha ceiling.

 **TERESA  
** This building, I swear ta Dogg...

A bangin scrapin sound pulls her eyes back up; a long-ass crack is movin across tha ceiling. Panicked, she picks up tha phone yo, but gets only static.

 **TERESA  
** Screw it, I be outta here.

She goes ta tha door n' tries ta open it yo, but can't. Biatch looks down by a gratin near tha floor; tha creepy slimy handz from earlier reach up n' grab her legs. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch screams as they pull her ta tha floor. Shiiit, dis aint no joke.


	3. ACT TWO

INT fo' realz. APARTMENT - MORNING

DEAN is twisted up in a straight-up awkward chill-posizzle on a leather sofa. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Sirens sound nearby n' da thug wakes, groaning. JO is chillin all up in tha table, twirlin her knife n' studyin notes n' blueprints.

 **JO  
** Morning, bizzatch.

 **DEAN  
** Wherez Sam?

 **JO  
** Went ta git coffee.

DEAN gets up slowly, grimacing.

 **DEAN  
** Ugh. My fuckin back yo. How'd you chill on dat big-ass soft bed?

 **JO  
** I didn't. Just been goin over every last muthafuckin thang.

Dude looks down at her, thankin bout yo. Dude places a funky-ass bag onto tha table n' pulls up a Bowie knife, unsnappin it from tha sheath n' handin it ta her, hilt-first.

 **DEAN  
** Here.

 **JO  
** Whatz dis for?

 **DEAN  
** Work a hell of a shitload betta than dat lil pig-sticker you twirlin around. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka!

JO takes tha knife, then handz his ass hers yo. Dude studies it, n' sees engraved on tha blade: W.A.H yo. Dude looks up at JO, gettin dat shit.

 **JO  
** Lil' Willy Anthony Harvelle.

 **DEAN  
** I be sorry as a muthafucka bout dat bullshit. My fuckin mistake.

Dude takes his knife back, sheathang dat shit.

 **JO**  
What do you, biatch.. what tha fuck do you remember bout yo' dad, biatch? I mean, whatz tha straight-up original gangsta thang dat pops tha fuck into yo' head?  
(he shakes his head)  
Come on, tell mah dirty ass.

 **DEAN**  
(sitting)  
I was six or seven, n' uh, tha pimpin' muthafucka took me blastin fo' tha last time. Yo ass know, balls on a gangbangin' fence, dat kind of thang. I bulls-eyed every last muthafuckin one of 'em yo. Dude gave me dis smile, like... I don't give a gangbangin' fuck.

 **JO  
** Dude must done been proud as a muthafucka as a muthafucka.

 **DEAN  
** What bout yo' dad?

 **JO  
** I was still up in pigtails when mah daddy took a dirt nap yo, but I remember his ass comin home from a hunt yo. He'd burst all up in dat door like, like Steve McQueen or somethang fo' realz. And he'd sweep me up in his thugged-out arms, n' I'd breathe up in dat oldschool leather jacket of his fo' realz. And mah mom, whoz ass was sour n' pissed from tha minute he left, her big-ass booty started smilin again. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch fo' realz. And we were... we was a cold-ass lil crew. Yo ass wanna know why I wanna do tha thang, biatch? For his muthafuckin ass. It aint nuthin but mah way of bein close ta his muthafuckin ass. Now tell me whatz wack wit that.

 **DEAN  
** Nothing.

SAM bursts all up in tha door (like Steve McQueen or something).

 **DEAN  
** Wherez tha coffee?

 **SAM  
** There is cops outside fo' realz. Another hoe disappeared. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka!

LATER

SAM n' JO is studyin tha notes, a lil mo' urgently than before. DEAN returns, shuttin tha door.

 **DEAN  
** Teresa Ellis, Apartment 2F. Pimp reported her missin round dawn. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.

 **JO  
** And her crib?

 **DEAN  
** Cracks all over tha plaster, walls, ceiling. There was ectoplasm, like a muthafucka.

 **SAM  
** Well, between dat n' dat tuft of afro I'd say dis suckerz comin from tha walls.

 **DEAN  
** But whoz ass is it, biatch? Buildingz history is straight-up clean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.

 **JO**  
(pickin up a photograph)  
Well, maybe our slick asses lookin up in tha wack place.

 **DEAN  
** What do you mean?

 **JO  
** Peep dis out.

 **SAM**  
(lookin all up in tha photo)  
An empty field?

 **JO  
** It aint nuthin but where dis buildin was built. Take a peep tha one next door. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Da windows.

 **SAM  
** Bars.

 **DEAN  
** We next door ta a prison?

 **JO**  
(on tha phone)  
Thanks, Ash fo' realz. And if you breathe a word of dis ta mah momma... Thatz right. I will. With pliers.   
(hangin up)  
Okay. Moyamensin prison. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Built up in 1835, torn down up in 1963 fo' realz. And git all dis bullshit. They used ta execute playas by hangin dem up in tha empty field next door. Shiiit, dis aint no joke.

 **SAM  
** Well, then, we need a list fo' realz. All tha playas executed there, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho.

 **JO  
** Ash be already on dat shit.

**LATER**

SAM is scrollin down a straight-up long list of names on his fuckin laptop.

 **SAM  
** A hundred fifty seven names?

 **DEAN  
** We've gotta narrow dat down.

 **SAM  
** Yeah.

 **DEAN  
** Or else we gonna be diggin up a hell of a shitload of stiffs.

SAM scrolls down ta tha name HERMAN WEBSTER MUDGETT n' clicks on it, frowning.

 **SAM  
** Herman Websta Mudgett?

 **JO  
** Yeah?

 **SAM  
** Wasn't dat H yo. H yo. Holmes' real name?

 **DEAN  
** You've gotta be kiddin' mah dirty ass.

 **DEAN  
** Yep yo. Holmes was executed at Moyamensing, May 7, 1896.

 **SAM  
** H yo. H yo. Holmes his dirty ass. Come on, I mean, what tha fuck is tha odds?

 **JO  
** Dum diddy-dum, here I come biaaatch! Who tha fuck is dis muthafucka?

 **DEAN  
** Da term "multi-murderer." They coined it ta describe Holmes yo. Dude was Americaz first serial killer, before anybody knew what tha fuck a serial killa was.

 **SAM  
** Yeah, his schmoooove ass confessed ta twenty seven murdaz yo, but some put tha dirtnap toll at over a hundred.

 **DEAN**  
And his sucka flavor of chizzle, biatch? Pretty petite blondes yo. He, uh, he used chloroform ta bust a cap up in 'em.  
(beat)  
Which is what tha fuck I smelled up in tha hallway last night fo' realz. At his thugged-out lil' place, cops found human remains, bone fragments, n' long lockz of bloody blonde hair.  
(to JO)  
Boy, you shizzle know how tha fuck ta pick 'em.

 **JO  
** Well, our laid-back asses just find tha bones, salt 'em n' burn 'em, right?

 **SAM  
** Well, it aint dat easy as fuck yo. His body is buried up in hood yo, but itz encased up in a cold-ass lil couple tonz of concrete.

 **JO  
** What, biatch? Why?

 **DEAN  
** Da rap goes dat da ruffneck didn't want anybody mutilatin his corpse. 'Cause, you know, thatz what tha fuck he used ta do.

 **SAM  
** Yo ass know somethin'. We might have a even bigger problem than dis shit.

 **JO  
** How tha fuck do dis git bigger?

 **SAM  
** Holmes built a crib buildin up in Chicago yo. Dude called it tha Murder Castle. Da whole place was a thugged-out dirtnap factory, they had, uh, trap doors, acid vats, quick line pits... his thugged-out lil' punk-ass built these secret chambers inside tha walls yo. He'd lock his suckas in, keep dem kickin it fo' days. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Some he'd suffocate, others he'd let starve ta dirtnap.

 **JO  
** So Teresa could still be kickin dat shit, yo. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch could be inside these walls.

 **DEAN  
** We need sledgehammers, crowbars. We've gots ta smash these walls, anywhere thick enough ta hide a girl.

INT fo' realz. APT. BUILDING WALLS - DAY

DEAN n' JO is squeezin all up in crawl-spaces inside tha buildin walls. JO is on tha phone.

 **JO**  
Okay. Call our asses afta you check tha southeast wall.   
(hangin up)  
Samz almost done wit tha straight-up original gangsta floor yo. Hasn't found jack squat either n' shit.   
(DEAN stops)  
What tha fuck iz it?

 **DEAN  
** It aint nuthin but too narrow. Can't go any further.

 **JO  
** Let me see.

 **DEAN**  
What is you-  
(she squeezes past him)  
Ugh. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Shoulda cleaned tha pipes.

 **JO  
** What?

 **DEAN  
** I, uh, I wish tha pipes was cleaner n' shit.

 **JO  
** Shut up. I can fit up in there, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho.

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass aint goin up in there by yo ass.

 **JO  
** Yo ass gots a funky-ass betta idea?

 **DEAN  
** You-

 **JO  
** Uh-huh.

She continues down tha tight space past DEAN fo' realz. Afta she goes outta sight, his schmoooove ass calls her on tha phone.

 **DEAN  
** Where is yo slick ass?

 **JO  
** On tha uptown wall.

She findz a air duct n' starts climbin down dat shit.

 **JO  
** I be headin down some kind of air duct.

 **DEAN  
** Fuck dat shit, no, no, no, stay up here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho.

 **JO  
** Look, we've gotta find dis girl, don't we, biatch? I be aiiight.

 **DEAN**  
(studyin tha blueprints)  
All right. I be headin ta you, biatch.

She comes up tha fuck into a similar space on a lower level n' presses on. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Goo starts pourin up from tha wall cracks.

 **JO  
** Oh god.

 **DEAN**  
(over tha phone)  
What tha fuck iz it, biatch? Jo, biatch? Jo!

JO screams. Boy it's gettin hot, yes indeed it is. DEAN runs down ta tha lower level, tryin ta hear where she is.

 **DEAN  
** Jo!

Dude takes tha sledgehammer his schmoooove ass carryin n' smashes a big-ass hole up in tha wall yo. Dude pokes his head up in n' findz where JO was, her cell beeper lyin on tha floor. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch is gone.

 


	4. ACT THREE

DEAN rushes back up tha hallway, hustlin headlong tha fuck into SAM.

 **SAM  
** Whoa.

 **DEAN  
** Dat punk gots Jo.

 **SAM  
** What, biatch? How'd dat happen?

 **DEAN  
** I wasn't wit her; I left her ridin' solo. Dammit!

 **SAM  
** Yo, hey, look, we'll find her, all right?

 **DEAN  
** Where?

 **SAM  
** Inside tha walls.

 **DEAN  
** We've been inside tha walls all night. None of tha other hoes was there, dat biiiiatch won't be either.

INT fo' realz. APARTMENT - NIGHT

 **SAM  
** Look. We've just gotta take a funky-ass beat n' be thinkin bout all dis bullshit. Maybe we gots Holmes' M.O. wrong.

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, well, we'd betta friggin' be thinkin fast.

DEAN'S cell beeper rings again; he lyrics dat shit.

 **DEAN  
** Yeah.

 **ELLEN'S VOICE  
** Yo ass lied ta mah dirty ass. Dat hoe there.

 **DEAN  
** Ellen. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.

 **ELLEN  
** No - Ash holla'd at mah crazy ass every last muthafuckin thang. Manz a smart-ass yo, but he foldz like a cold-ass lil skanky suit. Now you put mah damn daughta on tha phone.

 **DEAN  
** Dat hoe gonna gotta call you back, dat dunkadelic hoe takin care of, uh, feminine bidnizz.

 **ELLEN  
** Yeah, right. Where is she, biatch? Where is she?!

 **DEAN  
** Look, we'll git her back.

 **ELLEN  
** Git her back, biatch? Back from what?

 **DEAN  
** Da spirit our crazy asses hunting, it took her muthafuckin ass.

 **ELLEN  
** Oh mah god.

 **DEAN  
** Bitch bout ta fuckin be aiiight, I promise.

 **ELLEN  
** Yo ass promise. That aint tha last time I've heard dat from a Winchesta n' shit.

 **DEAN  
** What?

 **ELLEN  
** If anythang happens ta her muthafuckin ass...

 **DEAN  
** It won't. I won't let dat shit. Ellen, I be sorry, I straight-up am.

 **ELLEN  
** I be takin tha straight-up original gangsta flight out. I be bout ta be there up in all dem hours.

She hangs up.

 **DEAN  
** Damnit!

 **SAM  
** Don't beat yo ass up, Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Therez not a god damn thang you could have done.

 **DEAN  
** Tell me you've gots something.

 **SAM  
** Uh, maybe. Look. Yo ass peep tha layout of tha Holmes cappin' castle, there be a all tha torture chambers inside tha walls, right?

 **DEAN  
** Right.

 **SAM  
** But there be a one we aint considered yet. Da one up in dis basement.

 **DEAN  
** This buildin aint gots a funky-ass basement.

 **SAM  
** Yo ass is right, it don't. But I just noticed all dis bullshit. Beneath tha foundation, it be lookin like part of a oldschool sewer system dat aint been used fo'-

 **DEAN  
** Letz go.

DEAN grabs his jacket n' books; Sam bigs up.

INT. CREEPY SEWER - NIGHT

JO wakes up in a small, dark place, lyin on her back. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch still has her flashlight; her big-ass booty shines it round ta reveal a wall wood all dem inches above her grill - it has long scratches gouged up in dat shit. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch sobs wit a hand over her face, then collects her muthafuckin ass. To her right be another wood panel wit a slit; lookin all up in dat thugged-out biiiatch can peep a larger, round chamber wit similar compartments ta tha one she up in round dat shit. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch hears a noise.

 **JO  
** Hello?

 **TERESA**  
(in another compartment)  
Is - be anybody there?

 **JO  
** Yo crazy-ass namez Teresa?

 **TERESA  
** Yes yes y'all.

 **JO  
** This won't make you feel mo' betta yo, but I be here ta rescue you, biatch.

 **TERESA  
** Oh god. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Dat punk up there, he gonna bust a cap up in us!

 **JO  
** Fuck dat shit, da thug won't. We gettin out. My fuckin playaz is lookin fo' us, they'll find us.

Quiet footsteps fall nearby: tha spirit approaches.

 **TERESA  
** Oh god, itz him!

 **JO  
** Shh! Just be on tha fuckin' down-low!

All is straight-up on tha fuckin' down-low. Then tha Creepy Hand bursts all up in tha fuck into JO'S prison n' grabs her by tha head. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Biatch screams as it rips off a cold-ass lil chunk of her hair. Shiiit, dis aint no joke.

 


	5. ACT FOUR

EXT. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. STREET - DAY

SAM n' DEAN, wit a metal detector n' a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dirty-ass shovel, respectively, search tha streetz of Philadelphia. They follow tha trail tha fuck into a open field until SAM stops over one spot, tha metal detector whining.

 **SAM  
** Here.

DEAN drops his bag n' starts diggin furiously fo' realz. Afta some shovel work, they dig wit they handz ta uncover a metal trap door, which they pull open. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. DEAN handz SAM a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dirty-ass shotgun n' takes one, n' a gangbangin' flashlight, then starts descending. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM bigs up.

INT. CREEPY SEWER PRISON - DAY

JO is kickin steadily n' furiously on tha wall of her wooden cell. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch drops back up in exhaustion. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch hears footsteps approachin n' turns; a scraggly-bearded grill appears all up in tha opening.

 **HOLMES  
** Yo ass is so pretty. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So dope naaahhmean, biatch?

 **JO  
** Go ta hell!

Dude reaches his Creepy Hand all up in tha openin n' fondlez he. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch turns away n' groans up in disgust n' horror. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Suddenly dat dunkadelic hoe turns, stabbin tha fuck into tha hand wit her knife. Da spirit flees, screaming.

 **JO  
** How tha fuck do you like that, biatch? Pure iron, you creepy-ass lil hustla of a funky-ass biiiatch!

INT. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SEWERS - DAY

DEAN n' SAM crawl along on elbows n' knees all up in tha narrow sewer tunnels.

INT. CREEPY SEWER PRISON - DAY

JO lies straight-up still, listening.

 **TERESA  
** Is he gone?

 **JO  
** I don't give a gangbangin' fuck.

Dude aint yo. HOLMES grabs JO by tha arm again, pullin her back, n' clamps a hand down over her grill.

 **HOLMES  
** Shhh.

JO struggles, tryin ta scream but gagged by HOLMES' hand.

 **DEAN  
** Hey!

DEAN fires his wild lil' freakadelic glock tha fuck into HOLMES' chest, bustin his ass flyin backwardz n' outta sight.

 **DEAN  
** Jo?!

 **JO  
** I be here!

DEAN findz a iron bar leanin against a wall n' starts ta pry open JO'S prison wit dat shit. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM investigates tha other compartments; one gotz nuff gruesome body parts yo. Dude findz TERESA.

 **SAM  
** We gonna git you outta here, all right?

 **DEAN**  
Sam!  
(handin tha bar ta SAM)  
Hang on. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.   
(he opens tha compartment ta let JO out)  
Y'all right?

 **JO  
** Been mo' betta n' shit. Letz git tha hell outta here before his schmoooove ass comes back.

 **DEAN  
** Actually, I don't be thinkin you leavin here just yet.

 **JO  
** What?

 **DEAN  
** Remember when I holla'd you bein bait was a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dirty-ass shitty-ass plan, biatch? Now itz kind of tha only one we got.

Dude turns ta SAM, whoz ass has a armful of terrified TERESA yo. Dude shrugs.

**LATER**

JO is chillin alone, silently, up in tha middle of tha chamber n' shit. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch has her arms wrapped round her knees n' is tremblin yo, but breathang deeply n' steadily. HOLMES appears behind her n' shit. Dude strutts forward. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! When he gets straight-up close:

 **DEAN  
** Now!

JO dives forwardz as SAM n' DEAN fire at suttin' on tha walls; nuff muthafuckin bags unroll n' spill salt up in a slick circle round HOLMES, trappin his muthafuckin ass. DEAN pulls JO ta safety as HOLMES circles, gibberin n' beatboxin up in terror.

 **JO  
** Scream all you want, you dick yo, but there be a no way you steppin over dat salt!

A grate slams shut, sealin off tha room.

EXT. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. STREET - DAY

JO n' SAM is standin all up in tha entrizzle ta tha sewers. lookin down.

 **SAM  
** So, biatch? This thang as glamorous as you thought it would be?

 **JO  
** Well, except fo' all tha pee-your-pants terror, yeah. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Sure. But dat Teresa girlz gonna live a game cuz of us. It aint nuthin but worth it, aint it?

 **SAM  
** Yeah. Yeah it is.

 **JO  
** Yo, what tha fuck if some muthafucka findz dat sewer down there, or a storm washes tha salt away?

 **SAM  
** Both straight-up fine points, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. Which is why we waitin here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho.

 **JO  
** For what?

Da bangin beepin of Big-Ass Truck Backin up is heard. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! SAM smilez n' looks over his shoulder: a cold-ass lil cement mixer is backin tha fuck into tha field, stoppin just over tha sewer entrance. DEAN is driving.

 **SAM**  
For dis shit.   
(wavin at his ass ta stop tha truck)  
Whoa!

DEAN gets outta tha cab; he n' SAM set up tha cement mixer right over tha entrance.

 **JO  
** Yo ass ripped off a cold-ass lil cement truck?

 **DEAN**  
I be bout ta give it back.  
(watchin tha cement pour on down)  
Well, dat oughta keep his ass down there till hell freezes over n' shit.

 


	6. ACT FIVE

EXT yo. HIGHWAY - NIGHT

Da IMPALA zooms on tha fuckin' down-lowly down a thugged-out dark road. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! DEAN is revealed first, driving; JO is visible up in tha seat behind his muthafuckin ass. DEAN glances nervously ta his bangin right; JO'S eyes flicker ta DEAN. Pan over ta tha right ta reveal SAM chillin next ta JO, lookin straight ahead at ELLEN, whoz ass stares all up in tha road wit a set jaw. Dean glances at her again n' again n' again before da perved-out muthafucka speaks.

 **DEAN  
** Boy, you, you straight-up weren't kiddin bout flyin out, was yo slick ass?

ELLEN gives no erection whatsoever; SAM n' JO exchange a look.

 **DEAN  
** How tha fuck bout our slick asses dig some music?

Dude flicks tha radio on:

 **SONG  
** Yo ass be as cold as ice...

ELLEN reaches forward n' flicks tha radio off. JO n' SAM exchange another look, n' DEAN glances back as if fo' assistizzle yo. Dude sighs.

 **DEAN  
** This is gonna be a long-ass drive.

INT. ROADHOUSE - DAY

ELLEN storms in, draggin JO by tha elbow. DEAN n' SAM follow.

 **DEAN  
** Ellen, biatch? This is mah fault. Okay, biatch? I lied ta you n' I be sorry as a muthafucka bout dat bullshit. But Jo did phat up there, I be thinkin her daddy would be proud as a muthafucka as a muthafucka.

 **ELLEN  
** Don't you dare say dis shit. Not you, biatch. I need a moment wit mah daughter n' shiznit fo' realz. Alone.

SAM n' DEAN go outside.

 **JO  
** Yo ass is mad salty. I understand. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka!

 **ELLEN  
** Angry, biatch? Angry don't begin ta bust a nut on dat shit.

 **JO  
** Letz just be thinkin bout all dis bullshit. Everythingz all gravy, I be kickin it...

 **ELLEN  
** Not afta I be all up in wit you, biatch.

 **JO  
** Is dis bout me hunting, or suttin' else?

 **ELLEN  
** Yo ass let dem thugs use you as bait!

 **JO  
** They was right there, backin me up tha whole time.

 **ELLEN  
** That is why you aint gots tha sense ta do dis thang, you trustin yo' game ta dem wild-ass muthafuckas.

 **JO  
** What is you poppin' off about?

 **ELLEN  
** Like father, like sons, dat is what tha fuck I be poppin' off about.

 **JO  
** John, biatch? I thought you n' Jizzy was playas.

 **ELLEN  
** Yeah, we were, I be sorry, I didn't mean...

 **JO  
** Mom, biatch? What aren't you spittin some lyrics ta me son?

EXT. ROADHOUSE - DAY

SAM n' DEAN is leanin on tha IMPALA as JO comes stormin out. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch glares at DEAN n' keeps stalking, so he bigs up.

 **DEAN  
** That bad, huh?

 **JO  
** Not n' aint a thugged-out damn thang dat yo' ass can do.

 **DEAN  
** What happened, biatch? Yo, rap ta mah dirty ass.

 **JO  
** Git off me!

 **DEAN  
** Sorry. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. See you around.

Dude turns ta muthafuckin bounce.

 **JO  
** Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Well shiiiit, it turns up mah daddy had a partner on his fuckin last hunt. Funny, he probably hit dat shiznit alone; dis muthafucka did too yo, but... I guess mah daddy figured his schmoooove ass could trust his muthafuckin ass. Mistake. Guy screwed up, gots mah daddy capped. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka!

 **DEAN  
** What do dis gotta do with-

 **JO  
** Dat shiznit was yo' father, Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.

 **DEAN  
** What?

 **JO  
** Why do you be thinkin Jizzy never came back, biatch? Never holla'd at you bout us, biatch? Because his schmoooove ass couldn't look mah momma up in tha eye afta that, thatz why.

 **DEAN  
** Jo.

 **JO  
** Just... just git outta here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. Please, just muthafuckin bounce.

 


End file.
